Just something that's been on my mind for a while.
I really have to say that you are one of the people I hate the most that I know personally.
Seriously.
Like, Satan and Hitler, and Bin Laden don't count.
But I really think you could take the award of people I'd like to use Agent Orange on.
She said we should hang out and go to the movies together.
But I don't really like you enough to be around you for that long without wanting to cut your dick off and jam it down your fucking throat.
If I could find enough sources I'd write an essay about you.
But unfortunately no reliable person gives a shit about you.
I guess I'm just shit out of luck.
Or maybe you're just lucky.
Because I could just go on and on and on and on about how fucking boring you are.
And how anyone who actually wants to be around you is a fucking moronic clone prodded by the media to believe that aviators, cigarettes, and dyed hair are something to be admired.
Cheat on another girlfriend.
Get another shit ass minimum wage job.
Paper or plastic?
You're so fucking cool!
Shitty underground music you spread around like a fucking plague.
They are not good!
Just another test to see how many people you can get to agree with you on something.
Just to be a follower.
Let's all listen to the Spice Girls. They are cool.
No. Nothing is cool just because you say it is.
And you're not cool just because they say you are.
This is not because you disagree with every fucking thing I say.
Because I could really care less about anything you have to say.
But I really do like to hear the stupid things that slip off your tongue before you even have time to taste them.
Myspace is not a place to make friends for life.
Get a real life.
High school won't last forever.
Where will you be then?
Without your popularity and your friends that won't even remember you in five years?
Paper or plastic?
Wasted teenaged years trying to meet the band and fuck that girl that sits in the third row in spanish class.
And the one you meet at that ultra indie show.
And the one that smiles at you when you walk by her in the hallway.
And even the one that flips you off.
Fuck you.
Education wasted on used condoms.
Where will you be when it runs out?
Yea, you were cool in high school, but where does that get you in the real world.
Grainy home movies and drawings on used napkins don't count anymore.
Paper or plastic?
It's not going to work when you graduate.
High school diplomas don't really matter.
It's all about college.
Who's going and who's not?
Who's got an internship?
Who's got a scholarship?
Who just got in because they're fucking the dean behind his wife's back?
It doesn't matter for you though.
Which friend's studio apartment will I crash at when I try to leave this town?
Paper or plastic?
They won't care about you.
Why should they?
Some people learn to grow up.
Some just live in the now, never thinking about the future and what really matters.
And you know where they end up?
Having sex with high school girls trying to be young again.
Going to shows and being that old guy in the corner.
Or...
Paper or plastic?
Seriously.
Like, Satan and Hitler, and Bin Laden don't count.
But I really think you could take the award of people I'd like to use Agent Orange on.
She said we should hang out and go to the movies together.
But I don't really like you enough to be around you for that long without wanting to cut your dick off and jam it down your fucking throat.
If I could find enough sources I'd write an essay about you.
But unfortunately no reliable person gives a shit about you.
I guess I'm just shit out of luck.
Or maybe you're just lucky.
Because I could just go on and on and on and on about how fucking boring you are.
And how anyone who actually wants to be around you is a fucking moronic clone prodded by the media to believe that aviators, cigarettes, and dyed hair are something to be admired.
Cheat on another girlfriend.
Get another shit ass minimum wage job.
Paper or plastic?
You're so fucking cool!
Shitty underground music you spread around like a fucking plague.
They are not good!
Just another test to see how many people you can get to agree with you on something.
Just to be a follower.
Let's all listen to the Spice Girls. They are cool.
No. Nothing is cool just because you say it is.
And you're not cool just because they say you are.
This is not because you disagree with every fucking thing I say.
Because I could really care less about anything you have to say.
But I really do like to hear the stupid things that slip off your tongue before you even have time to taste them.
Myspace is not a place to make friends for life.
Get a real life.
High school won't last forever.
Where will you be then?
Without your popularity and your friends that won't even remember you in five years?
Paper or plastic?
Wasted teenaged years trying to meet the band and fuck that girl that sits in the third row in spanish class.
And the one you meet at that ultra indie show.
And the one that smiles at you when you walk by her in the hallway.
And even the one that flips you off.
Fuck you.
Education wasted on used condoms.
Where will you be when it runs out?
Yea, you were cool in high school, but where does that get you in the real world.
Grainy home movies and drawings on used napkins don't count anymore.
Paper or plastic?
It's not going to work when you graduate.
High school diplomas don't really matter.
It's all about college.
Who's going and who's not?
Who's got an internship?
Who's got a scholarship?
Who just got in because they're fucking the dean behind his wife's back?
It doesn't matter for you though.
Which friend's studio apartment will I crash at when I try to leave this town?
Paper or plastic?
They won't care about you.
Why should they?
Some people learn to grow up.
Some just live in the now, never thinking about the future and what really matters.
And you know where they end up?
Having sex with high school girls trying to be young again.
Going to shows and being that old guy in the corner.
Or...
Paper or plastic?